Embracing the Mess. Again.

Hypocrite: someone who says one thing and does another.

Or, if we want to get technical, Dictionary.com defines it: a person who feigns some desirable or publicly approved attitude, especially one whose private life, opinions, or statements belie his or her public statements.

Aka, this kid.

My last post was about embracing the mess, learning to love the uncertainty of things, and being alright with the fact that no one REALLY knows what they’re doing when it comes to life.

Less than an hour after posting that, I did some recreational writing, the type that will never end up on here, but is simply for my own well-being.

And…I freaked out in ink.

About how I don’t know what I’m doing.

And I’m afraid I could mess things up.

In other words, exactly the things I said that it’s ok to be ok with.

(Did you hear that noise? It was me, hitting my forehead with my palm. Cause I’m RIDICULOUS.)

It be easy at this point to slough this off with a, “Well everybody does stuff like that.” Which they do. But that doesn’t make it any better. If I really believe the words I type, which I do, why on earth am I still freaking out about  not knowing what I’m doing?

Oh yea…cause I’m human. Drat.

Because as good as it sounds to embrace the mess and be ok with not knowing what we’re doing, it’s not easy. Writing words is much easier than living them out. I’m not excusing my freak out, or trying to pretend that I did it simply so I could write a blog post about how hard it really is to embrace the mess. Fact of the matter is, I am not perfect. I am very, very far from it. I write because I feel compelled to, and honestly, though it may be selfish, most of my posts are more for my own benefit than anyone else’s. My most recent one was no different, and my ignoring it within an hour of posting it shows that quite clearly, I do believe.

So I remind myself again: it’s ok that life doesn’t make sense. Embrace the mess. EMBRACE THE MESS, BRIANNA!

Til next time…


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